Unfinished Business
by Louise Hargadon
Summary: TAG2015. Tag-on to the end of Tunnels of Time. After a hard day successfully managing to not get killed - Gordon and Penelope definitely deserve a nice cold drink of something wet and alcoholic. But neither of them can ignore the unashamedly demonstrative elephant in the room for too long... Gordon/Penelope. It is love, guys.


_**A/N:**_ _Did you SEE_ _ **Tunnels of Time**_ _? Did you SEE it?! IT HAD EVERYTHING._ _ **Gordon**_ _\- for starters, he was actually IN it. He also spent the entire episode being a sassy little scheissmeister (bit of German for you there)._ _ **Parker**_ _being EFFING HILARIOUS._ _ **Penelope**_ _being cool, calm, collected and not remotely flirting with Gordon whatsoever, oh no._ _ **Scott**_ _having to be physically dragged off the_ _ **Professor**_ _by_ _ **Virgil**_ _(ay chihuahua! Much manly. Very testosterone). Gordon just grabbing Penny's hand like it was no big deal._ _ **THE ALMOST KISS**_ _. It was just like the Anderbad tunnel all over again. Gosharoonie. Penelope and Gordon. Who even knew? I sure as hell didn't. But I am SO on board for it and I will ship this from the depths of Hades itself._

 _No idea what_ _ **Jeff's**_ _gonna say when he gets back. But hey, while the cat's away, guys..._

 _For all of my fellow Gordon Groupies who are delighted that our boy finally got some action - in more ways than one. And for Teebs who I still think hasn't quite recovered from the wonder of Angry!Scott. Let's face it, that makes at least two of us. I had to rewind it three times before I could move on!_

 _ **Disclaimer: Thunderbirds**_ _is not mine. You know who they belong to._ _ **Thunderbirds Are Go**_ _belongs to someone else entirely. I'm just messing about with Gordon a bit. And Penelope. She can take it, she's tough._

 **Unfinished Business**

Champagne. There was no drink quite like it. Oh yes, the trend over the last 40 years had leaned more towards Italian and Spanish sparkling wines like prosecco and cava - but champagne was a classic. It was like a string of pearls, a little black dress, Chanel No. 5. It was elegant and timeless.

After a hard day running through the tunnels and chambers of an emperor's tomb trying to escape certain death, it hit the sweet spot at the back of one's head like nothing else on earth.

International Rescue, as a general rule, didn't ordinarily go for a drink after a rescue. However, Penelope and Parker were pretty much stranded in the middle of the jungle until they could procure a new set of keys for FAB 1 which, according to the manufacturers, wouldn't be for another couple of days. Scott had very kindly volunteered to take Penelope and Parker to the nearest five star hotel and Virgil and Gordon thought it would have been rude to go home before making sure that both Penelope and Parker had settled in. Especially when Parker mentioned something about the hotel's extensive and reasonably-priced bar.

As Gordon had pointed out, Virgil and Scott may be flying home, but Gordon was only a passenger - and he had just had a very real brush with death. A medicinal nerve-calming drink was, therefore, far more of a need than a want at that moment. Parker was still a very old-fashioned butler and refused to socialise publicly with Penelope, he didn't feel it was right for servants and mistresses to sit together. He had ordered a pint of beer for each hand and gone in search of a small poker game to join in.

Penelope closed her eyes, an enigmatic smile playing at the corners of her lips, as she vaguely listened to the Tracy brothers chattering around her. Her adventures in the catacombs with Parker and Gordon had been tremendous fun, but she was glad it was over. She was glad she was sat among her friends after she had showered the last of the tomb-dust from herself and she was very glad to be safe again. They sat outside around a table which was shaded by a parasol and positioned right beside an Olympic-sized infinity pool. Gordon kept looking longingly at it, wishing he could just dive in.

Penelope smiled softly. She was glad that Gordon was safe, too.

Penelope suddenly thought of Jeff, of what he'd say if he had been there. He would berate Gordon for being so foolhardy. " _What were you thinking, going further into that place? You should have just gotten the hell outta there! We're a rescue organisation, we can't just take time out whenever the hell we feel like it for wild goose chases and treasure hunts!"_ Jeff could never pretend around Penelope, though. She knew as well as he did that his angry, stern words thinly veiled his worry and concern. _"I'll never stop being their Dad, Penny. No matter how big they get,"_ he had once said to her.

 _'You would have been proud today, Jeff. He did well,'_ she thought, smiling ruefully. She missed Jeff so much that sometimes it physically hurt to miss him. He had been one of her best friends for almost as long as she could remember. In fact, she didn't really remember a time she hadn't known him.

"You want another drink, Penny?" Scott asked, pointing to her empty glass. She snapped out of her daydream and looked at him for a moment. "Or have you had enough?" he inquired, frowning slightly. Penelope straightened her shoulders and looked at him petulantly.

"I am more than in control of my own actions, thank you, Scott," she answered primly, in what Gordon called her 'angry aristocrat' voice. "I'm sure it's my turn, anyway. I'll get these," she decided.

"Let me help," Gordon said, jumping up and offering her his hand to help her up. She looked at his hand, looked up at him, and stood unaided. "You need more than two hands to carry four drinks, right?" he said, ignoring the fact he'd blushed at her blatant rebuff. Scott and Virgil shot each other a sideways glance and both raised their left eyebrows but said nothing.

"Very well," Penelope relented, turning away from him and heading to the bar at a faster pace than usual in order to signify that she really didn't need or want any company at the bar. Gordon followed her, looking for all the world like an eager puppy. The bar was inside the hotel and completely out of sight of Scott and Virgil. The two brothers looked at each other expectantly.

"Am I the only one who felt like a spare part for the last forty-five minutes?" Virgil asked.

"Only Gordon would get lucky with a girl in a goddam tomb," Scott said, completely baffled.

"If they're not back in fifteen minutes, are you gonna have The Talk with him or shall I?" Virgil asked, sarcastically. Scott chuckled and shook his head.

"Pretty sure the kid knows how to handle himself on that score, Virge," he said, swigging back the rest of his water. "Say, y'know what'd make this water better?" he asked, running his thumb down the condensation on the glass and wiping his mouth with the back of his free hand. Virgil looked at him questioningly. "A nice cold beer," he said. Virgil chuckled and raised his glass.

"I'll drink to that!"

"Listen, I'm sorry," Gordon said when they arrived at the bar. He was standing about six inches too close to her and she could feel the warmth emanating from his body. Penelope didn't look at him and attempted to catch the bartender's attention.

"Sorry for what?"

"I dunno, I just feel like I kinda should be sorry for something," he said, truthfully. Penelope pinched her lips together slightly as she fought back a smile.

"'You and me, it wouldn't work?'" she repeated. He closed his eyes in sheer embarrassment.

"In my defence, I'd just saved your perfectly-formed ass back there," he said. She raised both eyebrows briefly.

"Gordon, a gentleman isn't supposed to gawp at a lady," she said, demurely. He shrugged.

"I didn't gawp. It was just there. I wasn't really looking. It just happened to be in my eyeline," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "Besides, what about you and your 'Back there I thought we were going to-' stuff? You know and I know you weren't talking about us dying!"

"Well, at least one of us understands the concept of subtlety," she said, a little sharply.

"This isn't about my taste in shirts, is it?" Gordon asked, frowning. Penelope closed her eyes and counted to ten. "It was a joke!" he protested.

"Another bottle of champagne and two sparkling waters with lemon," Penelope said to the bartender. "And another two pints of beer for the grey-haired gentleman over at the table in the corner, please," she added, gesturing over to Parker, who was looking smug as he had clearly just won that particular hand of poker.

"It isn't like I said anything wrong. You and me, it wouldn't work. Nothing even happened back there, anyway. I don't know why you're so sore about it," Gordon said, a little grumpily. Penelope turned to him.

"I was recruited by your father into this organisation. International Rescue means just as much to me as it does to you. Neither of us can afford for anything to complicate matters. Especially not that. You and I both know that everyone's emotions were all over the place back there. I thought Parker was going to actually cry at one point! There was a very real chance that none of us would get out of there at all. Why did you have to overthink things? Why did you need to romanticise anything? It was a look. That's all it was. It wasn't even as long as a moment. You had no need - you had no _right_ to turn it into 'you and me'!" she said to him in a hushed yet unmistakably furious tone.

"I wasn't turning it into anything!" Gordon said in an equally hushed and furious tone. "I was just getting it out there so that there was no confusion. We're on the same page, here. What's your problem?" he demanded, his dark amber eyes flashing with indignation.

Neither of them remotely expected what happened next, least of all Penelope.

"I don't know if I want to be on that page," she said. Gordon's eyes widened in surprise. He opened and closed his mouth three times as he desperately tried to think of a smartass comeback that would restore the status quo and not make this whole situation a hundred times more awkward than it already was. Before he could say anything at all, Penelope kissed him. Not a trembly, awkward, dry peck on the lips, either. A deep, hard, thirsty kiss that had been building up in both of them for the past few hours and refused to be stopped, no matter how badly advised the action was. Her hands ran through his hair and down his chest, his fingers pressed gently on the nape of her neck and the edge of his thumb covered the pulse point on her throat where he could feel her pulse throbbing - neither of them remotely aware of anything apart from each other as the space between them seemed to rapidly get shorter and shorter until the only sound they could hear was their heartbeats thundering in their ears.

Almost as unexpectedly as it had started, Gordon pulled away from Penelope and blinked intermittently for a few moments while his brain readjusted to being back on earth. He felt a little breathless and unsure of himself, and Penelope looked every bit as shocked as he felt.

"We'd best go back to the guys before the champagne gets warm," he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and looking in at least seventy-three different directions before his eyes rested back on Penelope and he offered her a slow, knowing grin. She leaned in closer to him and looked up at him, biting her lower lip slightly, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"It's not the champagne I'm worried about," she whispered.

 **THE END**


End file.
